Butterfly
by Arsyn-in-Heaven
Summary: A morning in the life of Jade. Explains kinda why she's mean, and why she likes coffee so much. Mention of Jade/Beck and slight slight mention of the Jade/Cat friendship. Rated T for no real reason, just leaving room for stuff later.
1. Get up

**K, so, first Victorious fanfiction, yay! I suggest you listen to this: .com/watch?v=7bcr3RTEqSE&feature=mh_lolz&list=LLfEvVupqHmHg**

**It's Elizabeth Gillies (Jade) singing Wild Horses. it's really beautiful and was a big mood setter (sound-wise, not lyric-wise) for me when I was writing this, and might help put your mind in the right place for reading this. **

**I suggest you listen to it, then read. or listen to it, then read while listening to it, if you can focus like that. **

**Ok, well, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Jade's POV<strong>

**5:00 am**

An hour before I need to be awake. I'll add time to the list of things I hate. That's kinda broad, though. I like time with Beck, if we aren't fighting. I like time with Cat if I'm in a good mood. Both are rare.

I stare at the jars of various disgusting things on my shelf. I simultaneously love and hate looking at them. It's like looking in a mirror. They are me. I keep hoping that they'll change. Maybe they'll morph into something beautiful, like the collection of butterflies they sit beside, but they just sit there, never changing, never becoming better.

I wish I could just sleep. It's the same every night. They scream, they fight, and I lay here waiting for the sleep that never comes. Sometimes I'll sleep in Beck's RV, but I can't do that every night, and he's gotta be sick of me by now.

It's alright, I can handle it.

**6:00 am**

I don't wanna get up now. I wanted to an hour ago, but now I don't wanna move. They're still screaming downstairs, and waking up means eventually walking by them. I could climb out the window...But my ankle still hurts from last time.

I heard my name a few times; they're probably arguing over who's fault I am. It's ok. It's fine. I'm numb to it all, and too tired to feel anything, let alone anger.

I'll just lay here a little longer. I can get ready in half an hour, I'll just cut down on make-up time... But then they'll see how tired I am. I can't let them see the cracks in my armor. Not that they'd really care, it'd just be so awkward. Maybe I can turn it around...act like I'm really grouchy. It'll distract from my actual emotions. Anger is like that, blinding. People react to anger with anger, and then they really won't see what my emotions are. Hard to sympathize with someone you hate.

But then I'll be all ugly for Beck.

Alright, then I'll just cut back on the time I spend with Beck before school. ugh.

But I really wanna see him.

But I **_really_** don't wanna get up.

**6:30**

They're still yelling. I still don't want to get up. Don't they get tired?

Ok. Get up. Come on.

**7:00**

Ok, now I really have to get up. But I'm so tired. Just like every other day. Why does school have to happen so early? Seriously. I need coffee.

Ok, I'm getting up. Now. Do it for the coffee.

I sigh and I get up.

I briefly look for my ipod to block out the yelling, but It's useless. Probably hidden under one of the many piles of clothes I have spread about.

I numbly put on my make-up. Nothing fancy, just the usual under-eye concealer, eye-liner, light eye-shadow (light meaning the amount, not the color. What'd you think, I was wearing pink today? ha.), mascara, and some natural-looking lip gloss.

And now clothes. Great.

I just throw on some black jeans and blindly pick a shirt. Doesn't matter, I don't own anything I don't like, except for that giant cheese burger I wore with the whole diddly bops incident, but I don't think I'd mistake that for a shirt. I put on some random jewelry. A bunch of bracelets, a necklace, and a couple rings. Everything I own is black, or goes with black, so I don't have to think.

I grab my bag and locate any school books I may have left lying around. Then I walk out the door...

...or I just stand in front of the door.

Come on. It won't be that bad. Just walk down the stairs, ignore the screaming, get to the door, and leave. Quick and painless. Yeah, right. Quick and painful. And when did I start thinking in cliches? Whatever.

Ok. Move.

I breathe in deeply then lightly step down the stairs.

They're in the living room. My father is sitting on the couch, rubbing his forehead, his face red from the anger he's trying to suppress. My mother stands above him, screaming about me. Nothing specific, just the usual comments on how I'm disrespectful, and how It's my father's fault. That he's too easy on me. Which is of course not true, he just doesn't outwardly tell me he hates me the way she does.

But the look in his eyes as he notices me says it all.

...and then she notices me, and begins to yell in my direction. I can't help but see the relief on my father's face as he gets the only break from her that he ever gets.

I try to let the words wash over me. In one ear and out the other, (there I go with the cliches again). But something about her screeching voice, the words she chooses, something about the way she truly believes every singe word she says, cuts me. And not the good kind of cut.

Then I remember that I'm supposed to be rushing out, I'm supposed to be avoiding this. I walk around her red face and bolt for the door. Something crashes behind me, and misses, luckily. I don't feel like having to explain why I have shards of glass in my back to Beck.

And then I'm gone. Free. But it doesn't feel like It. It feels like she's searing through my defenses even now. Telling me I'm a jar of fat, when all I want is to be a butterfly. I breathe sad, bitter breaths and start walking to Beck's place, the only real haven I have.

When did life become so fucked up?

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><p><strong>YAY! I hope you liked what I wrote so far. Nothing big happened in this chapter, I was just kind of exploring Jade's head a little. idk if i'll right more. If you guys tell me you want more, then i will, and I have a few ideas for some actual plot, but otherwise it was just a little experiment.<strong>


	2. The Puzzle

**Hello peoples! I said I'd add more chapters if you guys wanted me to, so here you go! And now that I've started, I kinda don't wanna stop. Too late to take it back, though. More chapters to come! if I don't go all procrastinate-y... This is a short one in Beck's POV, but it still continues to be very Jade-centric. don't worry, i'll switch back next chapter. and here we go...**

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><p>Beck's POV<p>

I hear the impatient clang of Jade's hand rap against the metal RV door and rush over to open it. Jade is donning her usual "It's too early to be alive" face, some black Jade-esqe clothing, and light make-up. Well, light for Jade. I like it though. It isn't often that I see this much of Jade's face, even when she sleeps over. Aren't girls supposed to take the make-up off when they sleep? Whatever. It's part of what makes Jade, Jade.

"You're late. I'm hurt." I place my hand on my chest, as if wounded.

"Right." She simply walks by me, into the RV. Ruh-roh, cranky. I close the door behind her.

"No witty reply? Huh. I haven't noticed any flying pigs, but it's kinda hard to see out these windows."

"You're cute. Where's the coffee?" She says, sitting down on the "Ugly carrot colored couch", as she likes to call it.

"Oh, I forgot. The coffeemaker broke." I reply, then realizing the tantrum that is about to ensue. Probably should have eased into it...

"It_ broke_?" she says, as if she was just diagnosed with terminal cancer, and I was the doctor delivering the news.

"What do you mean?" She stands up. No, not even the doctor. I'm the cancerous tumor it's self.

"Relax, we can pick up a cup on our way to school."

She sits down on the couch, deflated. Jade without coffee is like a solar powered car on a rainy day.

"Are you almost done getting ready?", she moans at me, then lies down, hugging one or my ugly carrot colored pillows.

"Yeah, just let me grab my stuff." I glance around for my bag. I thought I put it on the carrot couch...

"Behind you." Jade says, eyes closed. I turn around and sure enough, it's on a shelf under the fish tank.

"Alright, I guess we can-"

"Don't forget your car keys." She says, eyes still shut.

"Oh, yeah. Where did I-"

"On the floor, next to your foot."

And there it is. My little psychic. Or my little psycho. Either way, she's mine.

She pops one eye open and smiles at me. She's cute when she smiles. Not the "I'm evil and could crush you" smile (which is kinda hot, though), the sweet "you don't suck nearly as much as I thought you did" smile. Not like I could ever ever tell her she's cute, though. She'd probably think I was trying to break up with her. Or she'd make it a point to never ever smile again.

I walk over to her and kiss her head. Jade hates compliments of any kind, and acts as if they're insincere, and yet, Jade loves physical affection and "I love you"'s like any other girl. It's probably because her asshole of a dad never tells her he loves her or gives her a hug. Probably. I think. It's hard to tell with Jade; she never openly reveals anything. Unless it is in the form of some snide comment. Like when she said she hated ice cream because it reminded her of her childhood.

**_"You didn't have a happy childhood?"_**

**_"My favorite toy was a hammer. You finish the puzzle."_**

Jade sighs, jumps off the couch, and leads me out the door. Jade sometimes likes to drive, just so she can find ways to tick off other drivers, but today she is obviously wiped, so I take the wheel.

"The faster you drive, the faster I get coffee, and the more time I'll make for the janitor's closet."

I step on the gas.

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><p><strong>yay! ok. what'd you think? I'm not very good at boy-writing, and idk Beck's head as well as Jade's (well, as well as i think i know Jade's), that's why it mostly focuses around her. let me know if I pulled it off alright, though. If anyone has any more theories on why Jade is Jade, i'd love to hear them and include them in the story, if they're consistent with what i already have. I'll be sure to credit you.<strong>


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